Beautiful
by the ticking clock
Summary: Charles had always thought that Raven was beautiful, she just doesn't realize it until it's too late


Death was something that Mystique was used too.

She had killed countless people, destroyed lives, torn out hearts. Death was a constant companion, a shadow that drifted behind her, whispering violence and darkness in her ears. Death was familiar.

But she had never thought it would take her brother.

There had always been something about Charles that just seemed...timeless. His selflessness, his smile, his energy, his love for everyone, his stupid nobility. Charles had always been someone that she could rely on, even after she joined the Brotherhood, even after she left him bleeding to death on the beach, she still knew he was there. Knew he was alive, thought about how he would react to certain situations. She had hated him for a time, for a long time, but he was still her brother. He was still Charles.

And now he was gone.

Kneeling down in front of his headstone, she stared at the engraved etching of his face. He looked stern to her, almost angry, cold and hard like the rock of his tombstone. This was not how she pictured her brother. But she saw, as she looked harder, the familiar smile lines, the gentle curve of his mouth. She brushed her thumb against the cool stone, touching his cheek.

"Hey Charles," She whispered, as if he could really hear her, as if he could comfort her now. "You wouldn't believe the hell you have put me through." Her voice was shaky with tears, rough with emotion, but she did not care. She did not care if people thought she was insane for sitting her talking to a grave. Nothing mattered anymore. She cared for nothing.

"I never thanked you enough, did I?" She said softly, still absently stroking the cool stone of the grave, "For rescuing me in your kitchen. You saved my life so many times Charles, you probably don't know or remember all those times, but you did." She smiled. "I hated you, for awhile. Did you know that? I hated you, but I always loved you. I still do. And now I got my wish. I'm a normal human girl. Ironic, isn't it?"

She bent her head, unable to see his engraving anymore; the tears are blurring her vision. "I miss you so much..."

"mystique?"

The deep voice was familiar, but still, she tensed, blinking furiously to clear her eyes.

It was Hank. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes bright, almost accusing. He looked older. Older and worn. Even now, she pictured him the awkward teenage boy she had met so many years ago.

"I never expected to find you here, Mystique."

His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, and her fingers curled reflexively against her palms. She stared at him, not quite knowing what to say, or even what to think. Finally, words tumbled forth, almost of their own accord. "And why not?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't really have too. His look of reproach and contempt was all the answer she needed.

"He was my brother." She said, very softly.

"Oh? So now that he's dead you care?"

"I always cared!" She flared. She was on her feet now, in his face, trembling with barely restrained emotion. "I always cared about him, thought about him, _missed _him! Did you think just because we were on opposite sides, Beast, that I wanted him dead? that I was evil? I thought you knew me better than that."

"So did I." He said softly, not letting her anger affect his tone, but it was clear from the slight curl of his lip that she had provoked him. "We all thought we knew you Mystique. But then you turned your back and walked away. You left him bleeding to death-"

The tears were burning her eyes again, but she was to furious to wipe them away. "I would have gone back!" She shouted. "I cried myself to sleep for months because of what I did! But for the first time in my life, I was accepted! I belonged! I missed him, but...but..."

The tears had turned into sobs. She fell to her knees, hugging herself, and rocked back and forth. "Oh God...Charles...I'm sorry...Charles..."

A hand came down on her shoulder, gently. "Mystique...I-I well, Charles wanted me to give you this...he told me to keep it for you, after Cuba, if you ever wanted to come back-"

Something crumpled(paper?) was pushed into her hand. She unfolded it. It was not long, but it did not need to be. The few lines that were scrawled on the paper said what a five page paper could not.

_My dear Raven, _

_Know, sister, that I love you. I have always loved you. If you ever decided to come back to me, I would welcome you with open arms. You are still my sister, Raven, no matter who or what you pretend to be. _

_ And I always thought you were beautiful. _

_ Charles_

The tears were falling faster now, blurring her vision of the paper. She clenched her fingers tightly around the precious letter and hugged it to her chest. _Oh Charles..._

"Mystique?"

She took a deep breath and slowly uncurled from the ball that she had rolled into. She glanced once more at the letter, at the tombstone, at the smudges of salt water that stained her shirt. She thought back to her earliest memory, the boy in the kitchen. She thought of Charles, laughing with Erik, his coy smile, his gentle words...

_I always thought you were beautiful. _

She turned to Hank, and smiled.

"Maybe you should call me Raven."


End file.
